


you bring me home

by sameolsituation



Series: DL Stockings 2019 [6]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: DL Stockings 2019, Deacury, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Freddie Mercury Lives, Idiots in Love, M/M, Old Married Couple, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, can be read otherwise though, old!Deacury, technically '90s era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sameolsituation/pseuds/sameolsituation
Summary: “You wound me, Deaky,” Freddie said, with the sort of dramatic flair that only he could produce. “I decide to do something nice for the man that I love, and this is the thanks I get? I could’ve married Roger; maybe he’d be grateful for my tea.”“If you had married Roger, both of you would have starved, because neither of you can cook and you bicker like children. You’re lucky I came to your rescue,” John said.--Freddie wakes early and John is left to clean up the mess.
Relationships: John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Series: DL Stockings 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581805
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: DL Stockings 2019





	you bring me home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epherians](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epherians/gifts).



> This was created as part of the Dork Lovers Server Stocking Challenge... you get a fic, you get a fic, everyone gets a fic! 
> 
> Title is from Harry Styles' song Sweet Creature.

When John awoke in the morning, he was usually up long before Freddie was; Freddie was very insistent that he needed his “beauty sleep,” so unless they had somewhere to be in the morning, John usually let him sleep as long as he wanted, assuming he didn’t sleep for an unhealthy amount of time.

Today, however, when John awoke, the space next to him in bed was empty, and Freddie was nowhere to be found in their bedroom. Curious to see what he was up to, John got out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, fully intending to search for his husband – after a nice cup of tea.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ve already made some,” he heard Freddie call as John began to search in the cupboard for his favorite kind of tea. John raised an eyebrow and turned to find Freddie seated at the kitchen table, his body shielded almost entirely from view by the open newspaper clutched in his hands.

“Is it palatable?” John asked.

“You _wound_ me, Deaky,” Freddie said, with the sort of dramatic flair that only he could produce. “I decide to do something nice for the man that I love, and this is the thanks I get? I could’ve married Roger; maybe he’d be grateful for my tea.”

Despite himself, John’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile; it was always difficult to be legitimately angry with Freddie.

“If you had married Roger, both of you would have starved, because neither of you can cook and you bicker like children. You’re lucky I came to your rescue,” John said, approaching the kitchen table and cautiously pulling down a corner of Freddie’s newspaper, so he could properly see Freddie’s face.

“I’m _hurt_ that you have no faith in my abilities as a cook. Imagine what would have happened if you’d doubted my abilities as a songwriter,” Freddie sniffed.

“You’re a far better songwriter than you are a cook, love,” John said gently, choosing to walk around the table so he was standing behind Freddie, placing his hands atop the back of the chair as he bent down to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “But I do appreciate the effort. And I will say you’re a far better cook now than you were when we first met.”

“Twenty years of practice,” Freddie said proudly. “Should I make breakfast, too?”

“I think I’ve got that covered,” John said. “You can just sit here and do – well, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m trying to figure out this crossword,” Freddie informed him, shaking the newspaper slightly for emphasis. “How do you do this every morning? It’s _impossible,_ Deaky.”

John studied the daily crossword puzzle that Freddie had begun to attempt, immediately finding several places where words that clearly didn’t fit had been improperly crammed in, with Freddie even drawing extra boxes next to the already-printed ones to make the words ‘fit.’

His Freddie would never change. 

“Tell you what, Freddie; how about I make us breakfast, and then I’ll help you with the crossword, okay? We can have a nice morning together.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, darling. I married the right man after all!”


End file.
